This Queer Slam Poet Fires Back at Binary Gender Norms

By Skylar Kergil

January 11, 2018

"I believe my gender will be changing up until the moment I take my last breath."

I was 14 and alone in my childhood bedroom when a friend instant messaged me a video of Andrea Gibson performing their poem, "Swing Set." The first line stated a quote: “Are you a boy or a girl?” I was floored. Here was a poem that, after playing it on repeat all night, showed me I wasn’t alone in questioning the perceived complexity and difficulty of navigating society as a queer person.

Years later, I found myself investigating the intersections of race and gender politics through Gibson’s poetry. Winner of the first-ever Woman of the World Poetry Slam, their recent work has been groundbreaking. In poems like "Your Life" and "To The Men Catcalling My Girlfriend as I’m Walking Beside Her," they seamlessly spin hopelessness into hope, fire back at social norms, and challenge what it means to be alive and to be human. Today, I am honored to be able to talk to Andrea Gibson about the release of their sixth full-length album, Hey Galaxy.

Congratulations on Hey Galaxy being released today! In many of your poems, you seek guidance from nature, the greater world, and a universe bigger than yourself. What may we expect from Hey Galaxy that we haven’t heard before?

There are some new themes on the album in regards to wholeness — the idea that none of us are good or bad, but complex and ever-growing people. The older I get, I feel more committed to wonder than to "knowing." I don’t trust people who claim to "know" a lot. I trust curiosity. I trust openness. I trust a willingness to ask more questions. I don’t want to ever assume I know who someone is. I know as much about the person I love the most in this world as my dog knows about the entire universe. That’s how much each of us contains. That’s how gigantic we are.

Reflecting back to some of your earlier work, like Swarm, are there any themes you have abandoned or that you have recently embraced?

The first thing that comes to mind is the #MeToo movement — not that I’ve ever abandoned writing about sexual assault — but there have been years I, for my own wellbeing, chose to talk publicly about it less. I’ll never fully understand why some years I can’t do a show without speaking to it, and some years speaking to it on stage feels way too terrifying. This year is a year I can’t stomach not speaking, and I feel overwhelmingly grateful to everyone who has been speaking up. It’s not at all an easy thing to do.

"A Letter to White Queers" is a poem from Hey Galaxy that left me shivering. By addressing white privilege, racism, and oppression, as well as the intersections of race, sexual orientation, and gender identity, you challenged me to think more critically about queer community and movements. What inspired you to write this piece?

I had written a post on social media discussing my outrage about the murders of Mike Brown and Eric Garner, and in response got thousands of comments that were horrifically racist, and some of the comments were written by white queer people. I started further digging into my responsibility as a white writer and the ways I had and had not shown up to the work of undoing systems of hate. What I know is it should not be the responsibility of people of color to educate white people about white privilege and white supremacy. But, "A Letter to White Queers" is a poem I sometimes battle with, as there are parts of it that I believe lean too heavily in the direction of white guilt, and my fear is that will keep people stagnant in a time when we need people as active as possible. It’s one of those poems I may forever be working on and changing.

How has your activism shaped your writing?

For me, the two go hand in hand. They aren’t necessarily separate. But I will say that several years ago I started noticing that my priorities as a writer were changing. I recognized that I wanted to make art that helped; art that had the potential to change something for the better. That was my number one hope going into every show, and while it’s the nature of spoken word to write on themes of social justice, I hadn’t always been that clear in my reasons for doing what I do.

In an interview for Autostraddle in April 2013, you mentioned dismay at many of Obama’s choices while in office. Has the current political climate influenced your art as well?

Wow, that feels lifetimes away now and what I wouldn’t give to have Obama back in office. I’ve written more since Trump’s election than I have any other year of my life. I’ve never felt the shortness of days so intensely, as if there are not enough hours to create all I want to create. I’ve not before experienced the kind of political despair I’ve experienced this year. I’ve not ever been so tapped into grief and so desperate to make something beautiful on this messy planet.

To be honest, I think it would be healthier if I felt that more. I think it’s important to allow ourselves times when we quit. My therapist refers to it as "hibernating," and says we all need to hibernate sometimes. I wish I’d let myself hibernate more. I think I’d be a more gentle and thoughtful person if I were more willing to rest.

Your articulation of gender changed my teen years and inspired me to begin writing poems myself. Do you have any advice for writers, especially queer youth?

Writing has been such healing practice for me in regards to gender. We are so impacted by language, and the words we choose to speak and take in shape who we become. Personally, my process doesn’t look like me understanding my gender and then writing down what I understand. Instead I write about gender so I can understand who I am. It’s a constant exploration and I love that I don’t expect to reach a finish line with it, ever. I believe my gender will be changing up until the moment I take my last breath.

What is one thing you wish you could say to your younger self?

Prioritize loving yourself. Do everything you can to learn how to do that. You’ll have so much more to give.